


garden

by ghostlypoemland



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlypoemland/pseuds/ghostlypoemland
Summary: Astrid is kidnapped by Viggo. Far from being terrified of him, she finds herself falling for him.
Relationships: Viggo Grimborn/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. ysir

Ysir was only sixteen when she was married to Arne Hofferson, who at the time, was twenty-nine. She did not know the man well, aside from the fact that he would come and visit her father during the weekends and she would have to serve them mead. He was quite young, she would think, and quite handsome as well. These thoughts were innocent, she wouldn’t have expected her father to call her in one day and announce to the family that he was planning on getting her married to Arne, with her consent, of course. Her father had told her that Arne was a good man and would take care of her well, but she knew that he was really just saying that she was just a burden, and getting rid of her would leave him with one less family member to worry about feeding. She tried not to think much about it, because honestly, it made sense. They were a big family - one man running the house, with ten children to feed. Her family was poor, and she was often reminded of this fact at her husband's home:

 _Be thankful. When you came here, you had nothing_.

And this was said to her by Frida, Arne's first wife, his first love. When Ysir had questioned Arne on why he decided to marry again, he explained to her that Frida was who he loved, and she was where his loyalties lie. He married her simply because she could give birth, and Frida could not.

Ysir often felt like Frida could throw her out of this house at any time, and what would happen then?Where would she go? Her father would never agree to take her back, not with so many mouths to feed. _Bloody hell!_ She first thought, her eyes prickling with tears as she tried to figure out a way to get Frida out of the house. She could always throw Frida out of the house - the house did now belong to her, considering she held more power and a better postion in the family because she could give birth, but then Arne would kick her out and bring Frida back in. She just couldn't think hard enough.

Eventually, she gave up, and came to realise that she didn't really care if her husband didn't love her, and saw her as an tool he would use to produce offsprings. She didn't even love her husband, heck, she barley even knew the man! So she came to a decision that she would play her role as a wife and take care of the house and bear him children in return for a comfortable bed, good food, and a roof that doesn't leak over her head.

But it wasn't so easy. Living with another woman in the house came with some complications, from the awkward converstion they'd have while preparing dinner to the uncomfortable eye contact they would make from time to time. Frida was beautiful. She had a strong face, with her cheekbones being the most noticable feature on her face. Her brick-red hair was parted in the middle and formed into perfect waves that reached her waist. Her hazel eyes were carefully lined with kohl. In comparison to that, Ysir had a chubby face, short shaggy black hair, and bright blue eyes. There wasn't much you could say about her.

She felt like an uninvited quest in the house, moving around the house, around the bedroom, in which she slept alone most days for Arne usually slept with Frida in a bigger bedroom, upstairs. She felt like a fly, unwanted and annoying. That is, until now. Everything would be different with the birth of this baby, she assured herself. She would no longer feel ill at ease, no longer insecure.

Almost against her will, Ysir glanced towards the doorway, where Frida stood, a hand on her hip. For an instant, the two women locked gazes. The air around them felt thick and sightly yeasty, like rising dough. They had shared a room for twelve hours, with Firda helping the midwife with towels and water. Frida averted her gaze. She nodded towards the baby.

"Why doesn't she make a sound?" Frida said, with a hardness on her face that hadn't been there before.

"Yes. Is there something wrong?" Ysir turned ashen. Having had six miscarriages in only a few years, each more devastating than the last and harder to forget, she had been extremely careful throughout this pregnancy.

"Can I hold her?" Asked Ysir, holding the sides of her hair softly, an anxious habit she had picked up over the past year. "She...she's not crying. Why is she not crying?"

"Oh, she will cry, this girl," the midwife said in a decisive tone and instantly bit her tongue. She herself was worried. Her words echoed like a dark omen.

An awkward silence settled over the room as the first wife, the second wife and the midwife all stared at the baby with expectant eyes.

The midwife took the baby to the other side of curtain, and Ysir could hear rapid movement alongside the midwife's heavy breathing.

"Please," Ysir sighed, speaking to no one in particular as she rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. "Please!" She cried out again. Every night since she found out she was pregnant, she would talk herself to sleep. It was comforting. Just to mumble things to her self, especially about the baby.

 _My baby will be kind, and loving. Everyone will love you._ She would speak to her slightly swollen belly, happily. _My baby will be beautiful. You will make a difference. You will be gentle and soft. You will be beautiful. I will love you. You will love me. We will be happy._

But it was different today, she was crying. After months of being cautious with every step she took and after months of isolating her self in her room to stay away from all that was toxic - Frida and Arne- just so this baby would live. Just so this baby could arrive safe and healthy. "Please!" She cried out. _My baby will survive._

At last! Whoever it was she was crying out to had answered her prayers. The baby had started crying- shrieking. The baby had started shrieking. The voice of the child echoed around the house and into the neighbour's house. A series of "Thank Thor!" And sighs of relief could be heard from the other room, where Arne and his family with a couple of his friends were waiting.

The midwife began to panick as the fierce baby began to move uncontrollably in her arms, kicking and waving her arms and legs in the air. The midwife clumsily handed the baby to Ysir, whose eyes were filled with tears.

The baby stopped crying and her big blue eyes had widened as it stared at the women above who was smiling down at her. The baby blinked and her head shifted a little to right, now staring at the Frida, who now stood next to Ysir. Then her gaze went back to Ysir and again she began crying.

You see, while Ysir was screaming in agony for the past twelve hours, this little one was conversing with herself instead of trying of escape from the womb.

 _What is wrong with you?_ Her heart said. _They're all waiting for you! Come one! Kick!_

Her gut said, _Oh, I like it here. It's warm and cozy. I don't want to go!_

Her heart protested, _Don't be silly! Why stay in a place where nothing happens? It's so boring._

_But why leave a place where nothing happens? It's safe here. Her gut said._

_Sometimes where you feel most safe is where you least belong._ Her heart countered. _No turning back._

_No turning back._

She finally reached a conclusion, she would go with the heart. And finally when she pushed out, and was taken behind the curtain, and the midwife had slapped her bottom once, twice and she began crying. _She hadn't expected it to be this fucking cold!_ She began shrieking.

Ysir chuckled at the exchange she had with her baby when she had quieted down. Firda had opened the door and slipped outside - no doubt to give the news to her husband - _their_ husband.

A couple of minutes later, Arne entered the room. Smiling, he approached the bed. He looked at the baby, at the second wife, at the midwife, at the first wife, nodding at her, and finally back at the baby.

"Odin! I thank you! You've accepted my prayers."

"A girl," Ysir said softly, in case he was not yet aware.

"I know. The next one will be a boy. We will name him Erik." He ran his fingers across the baby's forehead. "All that matters is she is healthy. Thank Odin! This baby is not mine, nor is she yours. She was sent a gift."

Ysir stared at him with pure confusion in her eyes. Suddenly, she was seized by a feeling of apprehension, like a wild animal that was about the walk into a trap. She glanced at Firda, who was standing by the entrance, lips pursed so tight they were almost white as her foot tapped impatiently against the floorboard. Something about her demeanour suggested that she was overjoyed and excited, _suspiciously excited._

"This baby was gifted to us by the the Gods!" Arne said.

"All babies are," murmured the midwife.

Arne then held his younger wife's hand and look her straight in the eyes. "We'll give this baby to Frida."

"What in Thor's name are you talking about?" Ysir rasped.

"Let Frida raise her. She'll do an excellent job. You and I will make more children."

"No!"

"You don't want more kids?"

"I am not going to let that woman take my daughter."

Arne drew in a breath, then released it slowly.

"Don't be selfish. The Gods have given you this baby. Be grateful. You were barley scraping by when you came to this house. Come on, It's not-"

"This was her idea, wasn't it?" Ysir interrupted him - something she had never done before. "Did she come up with this?" Or have you two been plotting for months? Behind me back."

"Don't be stupid. You are young. Frida is getting old. She will never have a child of her own. Give her a gift."

Ysir shook her head, and kept doing so. Arne sighed and leaned over and held her by the shoulders, pulling her close to him. Only then she became still.

"You're not being rational." Arne said, his palm softly rubbing Ysir's back. "We're all in the same house. You'll see your daughter everyday. It's not like she will be going away, for Thor's sake."

Trembling to hold back the pain ripping through her chest, Ysir covered her face with the palm of her hands. "And who will my daughter call 'Mummy'?"

"What difference does it make? Frida can be _Mummy_ , and you'll be Auntie. We'll tell her the truth when she gets older, no need to confuse her little head now. When we have more kids, they will all be brothers and sisters anyway. They'll be running riot in the house. You won't be able to tell who belongs to who. We'll all be one big family."

"And who is going to nurse the baby?" Asked the midwife. "The _mummy or the auntie?_ "

Arne's head shot up towards the midwife as he stared at the nosy woman in annoyance. He sighed and digged into his pocket, bringing out a small sack of five gold coins.

"Here." He handed her the sack. "A token of our gratitude."

The midwife smiled and nodded, stepping back.

"Let me name her." Ysir said. If she wasn't going to raise the child as her own she could at least live happily with the knowledge that she was the one that named her.

"Well alright then." Arne said. "We will make the decision together."

"I was thinking," Frida stepped in, her eyes fixated on the baby, "For the past few months, that if it was a boy, we would name it Erik, like Arne said. But since, she's a girl, we could name her Camicazi. It's a beautiful name."

"Oh, that's quite a lovely name. I like that." Arne said, happily, and the midwife nodded in agreement, standing behind him.

Ysir blinked. It _was_ a beautiful name. But she wasn't going to give Frida the privilege of naming her own baby.

"No." Ysir said, strong and clear. "I will name her. By myself.

Arne and Frida exchanged glances.

"Oh." Frida sighed, "Of course." She then sat down on a chair, pushing it towards the right, so she could be next to her husband.

Ysir felt pressure as the midwife, her husband, and his wife stared at her, waiting for her to decide.

She looked at her baby, who was staring back at her. _She is beautiful._ Ysir thought. The baby rolled around, the sunlight reflecting on her rosy cheeks.

"Astrid." Ysir said. "It was also my grandmother's name. And...she's beautiful, just like her."

"Astrid..." Arne repeated and then looked at Frida who nodded back at him in approval. "I like it. It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Astrid!" He said again as he took the baby from Ysir's arms and lifted her in air. Frida laughed, "Be careful! She's not toy!"

Arne and Frida laughed as they took turns in holding the baby. Ysir sighed and leaned her head back, silent tears dropping down her face. She wish she could be as happy as them.

Arne held Astrid and opened the door, walking to the other room, where the rest of the relatives and his friends were waiting. His voice echoed around Ysir's head.

"Astrid Hofferson!" Arne happily yelled. "Her name is Astrid Hofferson!"


	2. honey, kohl, and sand

It was a noisy day at the Hofferson residence and there was a sweet smell in the air. Eight-year-old Astrid was sitting in the corner, watching her mother fold towels and set them upon the table. The house was not big, but it sure was beautiful. There was a courtyard in the middle with small red buckeye plants standing in each of its four corners. In the middle, there were long benches that were set up just for today because Mother had a tradition of inviting women to her house every three months for Waxing day. Astrid absolutely _adored_ this day for she would always sneak her finger into the bucket of wax -which was a mix of sugar, honey, and lemon- and lick it. She just couldn't understand why someone would want to slather this sugary delicacy on their hairy legs rather than eat it.

Mother dragged one eye down with her finger as she lined her bottom lid with dark kohl.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?

"Can I also put some?

"Oh. No honey. I need this stick for the rest of the week. When we go the market, I'll get you one for youself, okay? Listen, go check up on that Auntie of yours and make sure she's not burning up the wax. I'm just too scared to leave that woman alone.

"Yeah." Astrid chuckled.

 _Crazy Auntie Ysir._ Mother would sometimes tell Astrid that her Aunt was not very well in the head. She would sometimes tell her of all the crazy things that her crazy Aunt did, and Astrid would laugh, but then would later feel guilty for there were times when Auntie was quite nice to her. So whenever she felt like her mother would begin to slander against Auntie, Astrid would cut the conversation short by closing her eyes shut and pretending to fall asleep. Mother would just laugh and call her a silly girl.

Astrid skipped her way to the kitchen, her hands swinging by her side. She peaked inside.

Auntie was seated on the counter with her knees up to her chest as she sharpened her axe.

"Auntie?" Astrid called out. The older woman immediately stepped down, now putting a had on her stomach. She was pregnant again after suffering a miscarriage earlier this year. She dropped her axe to the floor and glanced at Astrid.

"Your mother sent you to check on the wax?"

Astrid nodded. "It's not burning, right?"

Auntie shook her head. "You don't really believe that it could burn when I'm in the same room?" She laughed. 

Astrid walked past Auntie to reach for the axe. She tried lifting the object, only to tumble backwards because of the weight. Auntie smiled. Feeling embarrassed, she walked back to the front of the counter to see what Auntie was now doing.

"Are you making food for the guests?" Astrid asked curiously, her head titling to the side as she studied the shredded lettuce piled up on the chopping board along side other ribbons of green. Just then, she noticed something. Pink earthworms, some cut into pieces, others still wiggling.

"Eww, what is that?

"It's for the babies. They'll love it."

"Babies?" Astrid gasped. She felt her stomack sink.

Maybe Mother was right all along: Auntie really was sick in the head. The child's eyes slid down to the floor, and she saw that Auntie wasn't wearing any shoes and her feet were cracked and hard around the edges. Maybe she sleepwalks? If she askes Dad, he won't tell her. Sadly, some topics were off-limits in the house. It still troubled her that while she and her mother slept in the same room, her father stayed with her aunt in another room upstairs. When she had asked Mother why this was so, she was told that Auntie was scared to be alone because she fought demons in her sleep. Just one of the crazy things that crazy Aunt Ysir would go through.

"Are you going to eat that?" Astrid asked. "You'll get sick."

"Me? No! It's for the babies, I just told you." Auntie looked at the girl with pure confusion. "Haven't you seen them? Up on the roof? I thought you were there all the time."

Astrid raised her eyebrows in suprise. She would've never suspected that Auntie would know that she went up to the roof almost everyday. Even so, she wasn't worried. There was something ghost-like about Auntie: she didn't take possesion of things, but merely floated through them. In any case, the child was sure there were no babies on the roof. There were just birds.

"You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy." 

There was such hurt in the woman's voice, such sadness pooling her beautiful eyes. Astrid was taken aback. Ashamed of her thoughts. 

"That's not true! I always believe you!"

"You sure? It's a serious thing to believe in someone. You can't just say it like that. You have to support them no matter what. Even when other people say awful things about that person. Can you do that?" 

Astrid nodded, happy to accept a challange.

Pleased, Auntie smiled. "Then I'll let you in on a secret."

Astrid was now intrigued. She stepped foward. 

"But do you promise not to tell anyone?" 

"I promise," Astrid said instantly. 

"Frida is not your mother." 

Astrid's eyes grew wide.

"Do you want to know who your real mother is?" 

Astrid was quite. There was a lump in her throat. 

"I am the one who gave birth to you. It was a warm day, but my hands were cold. Weird, eh? Frida was lonely and needed a gift. I am also the one who gave you your name. If they found out I told you, they'll send me back to my house, or maybe they'll send me to Gothi because they'll think I'm mad, and have me locked up in a room for ever, and we'll never see eachother again. Do you understand?" 

The child nodded, her face inert. 

"Good. Then your lips are sealed." 

Auntie went back to work, humming to herself. The bubbling of the cauldron, the chit-chat of the women in the living room, the clinking of teaspoons against the glasses, even the sheep in the garden seemed eager to join the chorus, bleating a tune of it's own. The little girl held her breath.

"I have an idea." Auntie said all of a sudden. "Let's put worms in the wax the next time the guests come over. Imagine all these women running around the house half-naked, worms clinging to their legs!" 

She was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes as she lurched backwards, stumbled on a basket and knocked it over, sending the potatoes inside rolling left and right. 

Astrid broke out a small smile, sightly terrified of the sudden change in behaviour. She tried to relax. It had to be a joke. No one in the family took Auntie seriously, so why should she? Auntie's remarks were like dust, they didn't matter. 

Then and there, the child decided to forget about it, it seemed like the right thing to do. But still, she couldn't stop the curiosity from eating her up. She felt the need to unveil the truth - if there was one. But she knew that she would not be ready for it, perhaps she never will be. She couldn't help but feel like there was something that was left unresolved between her and Auntie Ysir. _Crazy Auntie Ysir._

✻✻✻

The next week, Mother took Astrid to the market like she had promised. Father had decided to tag along. He had offered Ysir to come along, but she denied it. Astrid still remembers how the conversation went down:

"Ysir? We're going to the market. You should come. I think it'll be good for you." 

"No thank you. I'd rather stay alone, in this dark room, letting my thoughts dro-" 

"Oh for fuck's sa-" Father began to yell, but then he held himself back, pinched the bridge of his nose, drew in a breath, and sighed. "Very well then, make sure you lock the door." 

So here they were, just the three of them, like a _normal_ family, out shopping together. 

"Sometimes I just don't understand that woman." Father said with a sigh. 

"Yes, poor girl. I suppose her father didn't pay much attention to her growing up. No wonder she's not well in the head." Mother said with a _tsk._

"Maybe she just needs a friend." Astrid popped up, trying to join the conversation. "She seems really lonely." 

"Oh honey," Frida chuckled. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way with...uhm... _people like her._ "

Astrid looked up at her mother, confused as she titled her head, waiting for an explanation, but there was none. Mother began to look through the piles of fabric that were set up on the stall. She then looked up at father who began discussing prices with the seller. She drew in her breath. 

"I think we should include Auntie in more things that we do. Maybe it will help her."

Arne and Frida glanced at eachother and then back down at their child. 

Father sighed. "Astrid, my dear, you saw how I tried to get her to join us. I think she herself is not very pleased with the idea of being involved in the things we do." 

"But maybe if we tried a little har-" 

"Oh Astrid, don't you see? She doesn't want friends. She perfers to be alone. That's just how she is." Mother chuckled. 

"Besides," Father laughed, lifting Astrid up to his side as the child giggled and wrapped her legs around her father's waist as her hands drapped around his shoulders. "Some people just can't be understood. There's nothing we can do about it, eh?" 

Astrid bit her lip and looked down. There probably was something they could do, there just had to be. She couldn't bear looking watching Auntie look sad and alone all the time. She felt a strange painful feeling in her chest, and just when she thought the feeling couldn't get any worse, her uncle had showed up. 

"Gill!" Father called out his name happily as he softly dropped the child off his waist. Astrid felt a sick feeling in her stomach. 

"Arne!" The two men embraced. Uncle Gill looked down at Astrid, his palm now reaching towards her cheek. 

"How's my favourite niece?" 

Astrid felt disgusted. She hated the man. It wasn't always like this, if anything, he was her favorite uncle, and now all she wanted to do is ignore his existence even through she wasn't quite sure why. A couple of _incidences_ had led to her feelings towards him, but she was too young to understand any of it. All she knew is that she hated it. She hated him, with burning passion.

Astrid refused to get kohl that day. She refused to buy something that she knew she would cherish to be bought the same day she saw that man's face. 

Astrid loathed the walk home for Mother and Father kept talking about Auntie and why she didn't come and all the things that were wrong with that woman. 

By the time they reached home, the child's face was flushed. Father knocked and Auntie opened the door with a small "welcome back," as she held her stomach. 

"Are you alright, love?" Auntie asked, but received no answer. Astrid ran into the house, jump over a chair, and rushed up the stairs that led up the roof. As she was going, she could hear the screaming that began downstairs. 

"Why is she sad? What did you two do to her?" 

"What? She's not sad."

"She clearly is. What happened to her?" 

"You don't think I would know what my daughter is feeling?" 

There was silence.

Then Auntie spoke, "You mean my ch-" 

"Would you two shut up? I'm trying to get some bloody rest! My head hurts." 

That was all Astrid heard before she reached the top. Her day was ruined. After seeing Uncle's face, her day was ruined. _Stupid Uncle Gill._

The roof was slippery so she moved around in caution. She stared at the view of the ocean, the waves overlapping eachother. She took a breathe in and then held her hair, tightly. She just wanted to get his face out of her head. 

Just then, she heard a sound coming from behind her. She turned around only to find a box, and behind the box were pigeons. Many, many pigeons. And next to the box were bowls of fresh water and food. It was a variety of greens, with worms in them. Someone was taking good care of the birds. 

Astrid laughed, taking in the scene in front of her. All of sudden, she felt a strange feeling well up inside of her. If Auntie Ysir has been right about the birds, what else had she been right about? What if she really was her mother - they had the same bright blue eyes, they both would hold their hair when they were nervous, they both shared the same love for axes and deadly nadders, and they both had the same habit of having hiccups when they cry. She tried to think about what more they had in common, but the thought her mind kept running back to was this: all these years her and her family had thought of House Jorgenson as strange and preternatural people, but it was her house that she should've looked at first. 

For the first time, the child was able to stand back and look at her family from a mental distance; and what she found out made her uncomfortable. She always assumed they were a normal family, like any other in the world, but now she thought about it: from the screaming that took place in the home, to their relatives who made her sick, and now this. If Auntie really was her mother, why would she give her daugther away? Or could it be that it was they who snatched her from her mother's arms. 

Astrid began to panic. She loved Mother, and didn't want to think badly of her. She loved father too, though she was quite scared of him sometimes. She drew in a breath. She didn't know what to believe in anymore. Who in the family could she trust more - her father, her mother, or her aunt. Astrid looked around as if in search for an answer and found nothing. She decided, she would never mention what she thought to anyone. She would pretend as if she never knew. 

To this day, she had been careful not to show her love for her mother when Auntie was around. From now on, she would have to keep her love for her aunt a secret from her mother as well.

✻✻✻

On Astrid's ninth birthday, mother had gifted her some kohl. She held the thin stick in her hand and excitedly ran to mirror to apply it under her eyes. She stared at herself, and thought she looked beautiful. She looked up at her mother and smiled. 

"I look just like you!" 

Mother laughed and held her. "Of course you do, honey. Your my daughter." 

Astrid pursed her lips and nodded. She then rushed outside to show Father who smiled and kissed her on the head as a gift. Auntie Ysir was standing there, smiling with an axe in one hand, and another on her now enlarged stomach. She called Astrid towards her. Astrid did as told. 

"Here." Auntie said, handing the little girl an axe. Astrid gasped. 

"But this is your axe." 

"I am aware, but I know that you'll take care of it better than I will." She grinned softly at Astrid who stared at the object in admiration. "It's been passed down from my great-grandmother, so of course, it's you that owns it now."

Astrid lifted the object with a smile plastered to her face. "Thank you." She whispered. 

"Oh I knew you'd love it! I've been sharpening it for the past few days just for yo-" Just then, Auntie clutched her stomach and groaned. She then began screaming. 

"Arne!" She called out. "Arne!" 

Father came running into the garden. Astrid watched in confusion as the chaos unfolded infront of her as Mother rushed out to hold Auntie's hands to help her up the stairs, the three adults screaming. 

Astrid didn't understand what was happening. She knew that a baby was coming soon, she didn't expect it to be today. She decided to walk towards the tree that stood behind their home. Lifting her arms up, she used all her weight to shoot the axe towards the tree. She smiled, this was quite therapeutic. She could always imagine Uncle as the tree. 

The birth took place in the afternoon, but Astrid was not allowed to see the baby until later in the evening when Mother had called her in. She stepped in the room to see Auntie with her eyes shut and her head against a pillow, her hair was a mess, each strand in a different direction. Mother had left the room to get some water for Auntie. 

Astrid ran her hand through her hair and approached the craddle cautiously, her face had an expression that she had already decided upon earlier. She was determined to not like this boy - an unwanted intruder in her life. But the second her gaze landed on his rosebud face, doughy cheeks and knees dimpled like soft clay, she knew it was impossible to not love him.

"Auntie, can I touch him?" 

Sitting up, Ysir smiled. There were dark bags under her eyes. She spent her entire afternoon in the company of the midwife and the neighbours. Now that they were gone, she savoured this quiet moment with Astrid and her son. 

"Of course you can, my dear."

Astrid held out her index finger to the baby, who instantly grasped it and pulled it towards his velvet mouth. 

"Auntie, look! He doesn't want to let me go."

"That's because he loves you." 

"He does? But he doesn't even know me." 

Auntie winked. "Maybe the Gods had told him about his older sister before he came to us." 

Astrid's smile grew wider. She looked down at the boy. She knew nothing but all that she wanted to do was protect him and shower him with endless love. 

Auntie said, "From now on, we'll be inseparable - you, me, and the baby. Remember our secret?" 

Astrid drew in a shrap breath. Since the waxing day last year, none of them had bought up the subject.

"We'll tell your brother that I am your mother, not Frida. Then the three of us will have one big secret." 

Astrid didn't know what to say. She felt like a piece of her heart had fallen. She bit her lip and nodded. 

There was a knock on the door and just then, Uncle and his wife and his three sons had come over to congratulate them. They all entered the room with Mother and Father. 

Quietly, Astrid walked to the corner and sat on the floor as she began running her finger against the cold hard surface of her axe, and she began swinging it lightly. 

No one was really paying attention to her. They all gathered around the baby. 

"He's a bit chubby. Isn't he?" Said Uncle, gently lifting the boy - who they had now decided to name Erik, like Father wanted - from the cradle and lifted him up. The baby seemed a little floppy, and appeared to have a short neck. But Uncle pretended not to notice. Astrid wanted to snatch the baby away from his hands, but she just sat there quietly.

Soon, the sound of chit-chat and laughter had taken over the room as the relatives began discussing the future of Eric.

"He'll make a fine blacksmith, this one!" 

"Oh no, he'll be trader, I tell you!" 

"This my son, I say, he can go as far as to taking the cheif's position for himself." Said Father. Everyone laughed. 

"Look, he's smiling. I think he agrees," said Uncle's wife, her chestnut hair wrapped tightly into a bun that rested behind her head. 

They all fawned over Erik, passing him around, making cooing sounds and uttering pleasantries that might not even have been words. 

Father's eyes fell on Astrid. "Why are you so silent?"

Uncle turned towards Astrid. "Yes. Why is my favourite niece not talking today? Come join us." He said, patting his lap. 

"I'm fine here..." Astrid's voice trailed off. 

Uncle's gaze shifted from curiosity to something that resembled suspicion. Seeing him like that, Astrid was overcome by a wave of anxiety. She felt ill to her stomach. She looked at mother who gave her a stern look. Slowly, she stood up. Her hands tightening around the bottom of her axe. 

"Dad, can I go now? I'm sleepy." 

The grown-ups smiled at her knowingly. 

"That's okay, dear," said Father. "Go and sleep." 

As Astrid walked out of the room, she heard Uncle whisper behind her back, "Children," He laughed. "Oh bless her! She's jealous of the baby, poor darling." 

✻✻✻

Months later, Erik had grown his first teeth. Auntie had gone around the house happily skipping. She informed Mother, who raised her arms and demanded that all the women of the neighbourhood come together. Astrid thought, that if they were throwing parties because of something as small as this, then they'll probably wrap the whole of Berk in streamers when he says his first word. She wondered if they did the same for her when she was growing up, probably not. Erik was the long awaited son of the Hofferson household. He was special, not that Astrid was complaining. If anything, she was also beaming with happiness, her face bright.

Everyone was smiling that day, until Uncle's wife had rested her hand on a sleeping Erik's chest, only to find that he wasn't breathing. 

Erik was rushed to Gothi in Father's arms. Astrid, who was holding on to her father's clothes as she followed him up the stairs to Gothi's home, had decided to tag along. She thought that is these were Erik's last moments then she wanted to spend it with him. Mother and Auntie were at home, the neighbours comforting them. 

"He's fine," Gobber said, as Erik began crying when Gothi had pressed hard on his chest twice. The woman walked over to an area where there was only sand, she picked up her staff and began writing.

"Oh no..." Gobber's voice trailed off. Father's eyes shot up. 

"What? What is it?" 

"There's a wee bit of a problem." Gobber looked up at the the two. "She says that your child may not survive long."

Father eyes grew wide. He stared in at Gobber in disbelif. This could not be happening, it can't be! After years of praying, and fighting, this could not be happening. 

"What are you saying? How-" 

"She says you must've noticed by now that he's quite weak. Children like him often don't survive before all their teeth are out. She says it's best to tell his mother that she shouldn't get to attached."

Father sat there in silence, unable to process the news. Astrid curled her fist as she stared at Gobber in anger.

"Shut up, you stupid, bad man! Why are you saying horrible things?" 

"Astrid...behave," said Father, but not as sternly as he would have some other time. 

"Oh, you poor thing," Gobber said, looking at Astrid in pity.

"No! Shut up! You don't know anything, you're just stupid. He's fine. Erik's fine-" 

"Astrid!" Father raised his voice, causing Astrid to flinch. She stared at him as tears filled up her eyes. She looked at Erik who was peacefully sleeping on the bed. Astrid walked towards him, and decided to sit next to him, away from the adults. Gothi's eyes followed the child's movement, her face was lacking any sort of expression, as if she was used to reactions like these.

✻✻✻

Surprisingly, Erik had lived longer that expected. He was seven now, and very close to his older sister, who in return, showered him with unconditional love. Erik like to study the nature of things, of natural things. He would sit on the grass for hours and stare at ladybugs and bumblebees, following their every move. Although Father never said it, but Astrid could tell, that he was disappointed that his son didn't have the passion of a viking or the interest in dragons like alot of the other boys in Berk, but he loved his son far too much to force him into anything - even if he thought it was good for him - especially because of the haunting knowledge that lurched at the back of his mind that his son may not survive more than two years after this. His long awaited son. 

Astrid, now fifteen, had fallen in love with a deadly nadder, who she had named Stormfly. Every morning, whenever she got the time, she would take Eric on Stormfly and fly over Berk, and above the clouds, where they would talk about everything they wanted to do. Astrid would be quite most of the time for she didn't have much to say about herself, but she just enjoyed hearing Erik talk about what he read in his books, and where he wanted to go. There was never a morning when he didn't mention that he would become an author, a very famous author. Astrid would tell him that he would indeed become one of the greatest. She would always lift him up to sit on her shoulders so he would wave his arms in the air to let his hands touch the clouds. It was the only time they really got to spend together, for when she would drop him off, he would head back home to spend time with his mother, Ysir, whom he was extremely attached to, and Astrid would be off to train in the arena alongside the gang. When she'd come back home in the night, she would teach Erik how to aim with his axe, even though, in back of her mind, she knew there was no point but nonetheless she still did as long as she got to spend time with him, and if it was not that, then the three of them - Auntie, Astrid, and Erik would just sit together and talk for hours. 

Astrid never told Erik that Auntie was actually her mother, she stayed away from that topic and tried to avoid it as much as possible. She was in denial despite the evidence that it was the truth. Erik never bothered asking why his older sister called their mother 'auntie'. He was too busy having way too much fun when the two were around. All he ever knew was the two of them, and as long as they were happy, he was happy.

Most days, Erik would be the one to feed Stormfly chicken. He said he enjoyed to do so, and Astrid would let him. There was no chance of Stormfly hurting the young boy, no doubt she loved him just as much as Astrid did. When he was done, he would join the family for dinner. 

Unfortunately, this specific night, Erik didn't come back for dinner. Mother had told Astrid to go out and look for him, and so the girl had followed the orders. Her heart sank and she froze as she stared at the sight infront of her. Stormfly was nudging Erik's small body, which was unconscious on the floor, with her nose. Astid felt like the world had stopped as she noticed the trail of blood next to the now fallen over bucket of chicken that lined up and stopped next to the smudge on her younger brother's mouth.

"Erik!" Astrid shrieked, her voice loud enough to tear her throat. She shook her brother. "Erik! Wake up!" 

Father rushed out of the house, "Erik?" He called out. For a second, the man scanned the situation infront of him. From his blood covered son to the dragon who was flapping her wings in a state of panic. 

"What happened to him? I told you not to let that creature near him! Look what it's done!" 

Astrid, who by now, had lifted her little brother over her shoulders and climbed up behind Stormfly.

"Dad, why would Stormfly harm Erik? It isn't like her. Now come-" 

To make matters worse, Auntie came running, yelling her son's name alongside Mother who gasped at the sight infornt of her. 

"What happened to him?" Mother asked, her hand to her chest and her breathing heavy. 

"I told you! I told you to keep him away from that thing, but nobody listens to me in this damn house-" 

"Dad!" Astrid interrupted him, "it wasn't Stormfly, and if you don't get your head out of your ass, we won't reach Gothi in time. Now get on!" 

Deciding to ignore the fact that his daugther interrupted him - he was worried about his son - the man ran to the dragon's side, lifting himself up to sit behind Astrid. As they ascended, Astrid could hear Auntie's cries slowly fading away. 

So here she was, nervously holding the sides of her hair as she paced around the outside of the hut. She heard them speaking. 

"There's definitely no sign of any dragon attack. Seems like he coughed up the blood." 

There was silence before she heard Gobber's voice again. 

"She says she's suprised he was able to make it this far. She says she'll try her best. C'mon Arne, don't you worry now. He'll be fine." 

"Of course. He's my son. A Hofferson. He'll fight through it."

Erik was 'fighting' it as much as he could. It had been two weeks, and he was still unconscious. Every now and then, Astrid would bring her face closer to his to check if he was still breathing, and when she found out that he was, she would kiss his head. They had brought him home after three days of the incident. He was on the bed.

Astrid applied the kohl under her eyes as she felt like it had began to fade away. She wore it everyday. These past two weeks were a flash of guests visting to comfort them and the cries of Auntie, whose face was now red. Astrid didn't speak to her, mainly because she didn't know what to say, but still, she couldn't imagine what it must be like for Auntie to know that your son is walking a thin line infront of death and having no knowledge of whether he would make it or not. 

Uncle and his family had decided to stay with them as Erik was recovering, or if this happens to be his last days, then they wanted to be present. Astrid tried avoiding Uncle's way as much as she could, but was unable to. 

One evening, Astrid was seated in her room, on the floor, sharpening her axe as she tried not to think about the atmosphere in the house or about Erik. Mother was on a couch, braiding her hair. 

"Poor Erik." Mother sighed. "But what can we do? That's life, I think." 

"He'll be fine." Astrid said, unsure of the words that left her lips. "He's fine." She said again, not to answer Mother's question, but to convince herself. 

"Well, I knew this would happen anyway." Mother expressed. "That poor woman should know by now. Most of her babies didn't survive. I doubt this one will too." 

It was not like Mother was saying this on purpose or that she held any ill will against Auntie, and Mother loved Erik too, there just wasn't any sort of closeness between them. It was just that Mother spoke without thinking, and usually Astrid would ignore it, but today, there was a rush of emotions and she felt the need to talk back. 

"What is your problem? Why do you always talk shit about her?" 

"Don't curse at me-" 

"No. Ever since I was little, you and Dad have both treated Auntie like shit. What did she ever do to you? All my life I've known her, she doesn't even seem capable of hurting a fly." 

Mother stared at her in silence but she slowly stood. Before she could approach Astrid, the girl had already began to scurry out the room, but was stopped by a tight grip on her elbow. 

"Listen to me, don't make a big deal out of this, you hear? You've lost alot of siblings before, don't go around banging drums because of this one."

Her knuckles tightened around Astrid's arm as she winced in pain. 

"Let go of me!" Astrid was able to free herself from her mother's grip by pushing her off. Before the older woman could react, Astrid ran out of the room, out of the house, jumped over rocks, and soon found herself infront the ocean. She began crying. Then and there, she decided to keep a distance from Mother from now on. How could she say such things about Erik? She shouldn't bang drums for him? She couldn't even live without him.

Slowly, Astrid squatted down and stared at the water, she reached a hand out and curved her palm as she let the liquid pour into her hands and and she brought it to her nose, splashing the water on her face as she rubbed her eyes, trying to get the kohl off of it. She would never put on this stupid kohl on her eyes again. Not after what Mother had just said now. She would never. 

✻✻✻

One week late, Erik had died. The day was blur and most of what Astrid could remember was holding on to his body, and shrieking in pain. She kissed his pale grey face all over as she begged for him to wake up. She shook him, held his cheeks and rested her head on his chest as her own heaved and her voice echoed around the home. 

Father had cried for a good fifteen minutes but seemed to have controlled himself. Mother had cried a little longer, but was also able to handle herself. She was holding Auntie Ysir, who was not crying, but instead, was staring into a distance. When she heard the news, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she was preparing for it, then she pursed her lips, she looked down at her shoes and had remained like that; Quiet and Still. She had been like that for the past hour. 

"Astrid..." Stoick had rested his hand on her shoulder. "We have to take him." 

Astrid sniffed and nodded. She remembered that she was not alone, and - she assumed - that about fifty people had gathered around her home. Ruffnut stepped forward, softly taking Astrid's hand and placing her own on top. She smiled warmly at her. Astrid blinked at looked down, taking a deep breath before she looked at her father, waiting for him to answer the cheif. 

"Of course." Arne said quietly. The men lifted Erik's petite body, and began marching out. The women followed, and then children followed. Astrid didn't go. She was left alone in the house with Auntie Ysir, who's presence could not even be felt. 

Anxiously, Astrid looked over at Auntie, who now had a large piece of fabric wrapped around her chest. All of sudden, she looked older. She wasn't moving. Astrid wondered if she was even breathing, but then realised she was when she titled her head and sighed, her eyes still on her shoes. 

A part of Astrid felt as though she understood Auntie's pain. Maybe there was so much pain that she just shut down. But the other part of her thought she would never understand Auntie's pain, because Auntie was a mother and she was not. Maybe the pain they felt was different. 

The girl pursed her lips and stood up, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she approached Auntie. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around the older woman. She remained like that for a while, waiting for Auntie to hug her back, like she usually would, but this time she did not. She just tilted her head again, to the other side and sighed. 

Astrid stumbled back, she bit her lip, the tears still dropping down her cheeks. She decided to leave the room and walk around the house, understanding that Auntie probably needed to be alone for a while. As she left through the door, she looked back at Auntie, sighed and left. 

It had never been this quiet in their home. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of her steps. She ran her fingers across the walls, but stopped immediately when she heard the sqwaking of her dragon. She ran out of the house and found her dragon. It stared at her, as if it was waiting for her. Smiling, she hugged it, then gently pecked it. Stormfly moved towards the door of the house, where the wall still had a stain of Erik's blood. Astrid rested her head against the wall, and then she kissed it. 

How strange, Astrid wasn't able to comprehend how her life was before Erik. She couldn't seem to wrap her mind around it. How did she ever live without him? How _will_ she ever live without him? It was as though he was sent as a gift to her, as a present that left their home in pure joy. And now it felt like her gift had been snatched from her, and never to be seen again.

The stain was all that was left of him - all that really belonged to him. All his books were either borrowed or inherited by his grandfather. He spent most of his time observing things, but never writing any of them. He was kind, and he was soft. There was no one who did not love the boy the moment they met him. Astrid sighed. There was no one as admirable in their family as him, despite being just seven. The house lit up by his presence and brought Auntie happiness, more than Astrid did. He was the flame in a crowd of moths. He loved his home, and to stay under his bedsheets. He always said that if he were to travel the world, he would go everywhere and meet everyone, but would always find his way back home, because it was his favourite place. It was the hallway of this home that Eric ran through. It was the bed of this home that Erik slept it. Astrid promised to herself that she wouldn't let anything happen to this house as long as she was alive. It was Erik's home, and she was willing to die protecting it. 

✻✻✻

A week after Erik had left them, Astrid had assumed Auntie would've began talking by now, or maybe even move a little, but no, she sat still on an armchair, her only movements were when she would shift her head from one side to the other every thirty minutes, and would take a deep breath and let it out. 

And so, Astrid took it upon her self to take care of Auntie - since it was unlikely for Mother to care - by feeding her, and helping her change. Astrid told herself that she was only doing this because this was _Erik's mother,_ but still, she couldn't help but feel like deep down inside, it was done of out love, and maybe out of a little pity.

Using her thumb and index finger, the young girl cautiously held Ysir's chin and pulled it down, inserting the spoon in her mouth before lifting it so the liquid would slide down her throat. Astrid sighed and kept the bowl on the floor. She sat next to it and lifted her knees to meet her chest. She looked up at Auntie who was blankly staring at the curtains. 

"Why did you tell me that you're..." Astrid bit her lip, "that you're my mother?" She asked quietly then felt a rush in her neck before she felt the need to instantly add, "that is, if you even are." 

There was no answer, and Astrid expected none. 

"Why couldn't you have just told me later? At a time when I wouldn't have to think about it. Couldn't we have just lived that way? We would've been happy..." Astrid's vision began to blur as the tears filled her eyes, "...if I hadn't known." 

Astrid knew that Auntie would not answer. Earlier that day, Father had told her that he talked to Gothi about Aunite, and was told that she may never communicate with people properly again. She was in her own state of mind. In another world. In her own world. 

"I wish you would say something." Astrid croaked. "I miss you." 

There was a lint on the shawl that was rested on Auntie's shoulders. Astrid picked it and flicked it away. "Erik is gone now, and no one understands. No one is talking to me about him. They act like he was never here. No one seems to understand, but I know you do. I know you understand." 

Astrid now rested her head on Auntie's lap. It was then that she realised how touched-starved she was. She yearned for Auntie's warm embrace. She wanted Auntie to kiss her temple and tell her that everything would be okay. She shut her eyes for a minute, understanding that she would never get any of those moments back. She lifted her hand and positioned it on Auntie's knee. 

"Mom..." Astrid hesitantly whimpered. She never thought she'd ever say call Auntie that. It felt right when she did. It felt real. "Erik is gone. I need you." 

There was no answer aside from the small _'hmm'_ that left Auntie's lips as if she tried to say something but could not. Without giving in any more effort, Auntie closed her eyes, and let her head face down as her breathing becam heavy. She had fallen asleep.

Lifting her head, Astrid crawled over to bowl, settling it up on the table. Unexpectedly, she heard a howl from another room. She ran out only to find that Father was yanking boxes towards Mother, sending the books and candles flying across the room. Mother dodged the objects with ease and then charged towards the man and roughly pushed him to the floor before she pranced towards him and punched him across his face. 

"If only you hadn't let her into this house!" She roared, banging her fists on his chest. "You would've been happy! We would've been so happy! Why could you have just married someone normal?" 

Avoiding her question, Father caught her arm, brought it closer to his mouth, and then bit it, digging his teeth into her skin, receiving a scream from her end. He kicked her thigh, causing her to fly across the room. He then stood up and fixed his hair. 

"So what you're saying is that we would be happier without Astrid?" 

"You know that's not what I meant." 

"If there was no Ysir, there would be no Astrid." 

"Shut up. That's not what I meant. We should send Ysir away! We don't have enough money to take care of her." 

"Then Astrid will go with her." 

"No. My daughter will stay here." 

"You are forcing that woman away from her daughter. Having Astrid be around her could help her back into her senses." 

" _My_ daughter will be more than happy to stay away from Ysir." 

"Ha! My dear Frida, have you finally gone mad? Why do you keep lying to yourself. _Your daughter?_ Don't let me spit. She was never yours. She is not your daughter."

"What did you just say?" 

"I said she is not your daughter." 

Astrid had enough. She refused to hear more. She ran back to close the door of Auntie's room to prevent the noise from disturbing her. Then she heard a bang and shrieking. Feeling the rapid movement in her chest, Astrid began to run back towards her parent's room where Father looked like he was ready to throw Mother out the window as he was shoving her face through it.

"Dad!" Astrid gasped loudly as she rapidly moved towards the room. Father's eyes widened at the sight of Astrid. Before she could reach them, he had sprinted towards the door and shut it on her face, immediately locking it. Astrid began to hit the door with her palms.

"Dad!" She shouted, banging on the door as hard as she could. She then heard screaming from outside. Astrid rushed out of the home in a state of panic, gasping at the sight infornt of her. 

Mother's feet appeared out of the window, followed by the rest of her body. She was dangling from the highest located room in their home, her legs swinging wildly. Father was holding her by the arms while she tried to hit him in the face.

"Help!" Mother screamed. "He's trying to kill me!" 

"Fuck's sake, Frida, get back in here!" Father said. 

"Don't hurt her!" Astrid yelled before she darted back inside and grabbed her axe, then headed towards the door of her parent's room. She began to strike at the door with it as she watched it break into smaller and smaller pieces with each hit.

By the time the door had spilterned, Mother had found her way to jump back into the room, and was now tackling Father on the bed. As they were throwing fists at eachother, Mother lifted her hand up and brought it down, scratching Father across the face. This caused the man to freeze. He slowly looked at his wife. She too, had now calmed down as she watched her husband stare at her in shock.

Suddenly, Father grabbed Mother's wrist, catching her off guard. He flipped her over and was now towering her, pinning her hands above her head. Both their chests were now touching, as he breathed down her neck. She suddenly smiled at him. 

"Frida, my love, you're one hell of a woman," Father said. Mother told him he was a fucking psychopath. "Yeah, but you love this fucking psychopath, don't you?"

Mother began laughing and hugging Father, who was laughing and hugging her back. The fight between them had suddenly disappeared.

It was as if they were so happy they hadn't killed each other that they had fallen in love all over again.

Astrid stared at her parents in pure disturbance. "What the fuck." She whispered to her self before she step out of the now doorless room. 

Had father forgotten about Erik? It had only been one week, and he seemed fine. Had he finally officially lost it? As Astrid walked down the stairs, the pure confusion remained plastered on her face. Her parents were nutcases, there was no doubt about it. Maybe they taught her that Auntie was crazy just so she wouldn't notice how messed up they themselves were. 

Astrid shut the door of the house as she stepped outside. She wasn't wearing any shoes, so she stood on the naked sand. She took a deep breath and let her eyes drop to her feet. She then fell to her knees, and ran her hand across the rough surface of the ground. 

Instantaneously, she felt a rush in her mind. From Uncle, to finding out about Auntie Ysir, to being gifted her axe and never letting go of it, to Erik's brith, to meeting Stormfly, to talking about her dreams with Erik on Stormfly, to Erik's death. From how easliy Father got over Erik's death despite waiting and praying years for a son, to how unexpectedly auntie Ysir had shut down, and to whatever the fuck her parents had just done now. It felt like her world had gone mad. All of the memories ran around her head. She knew the fact that Auntie would probably never speak to her again, and that she would probably never come back to her senses ever again, but Astrid wasn't able to accept it. She never realised how much she need Auntie until now.

Astrid had never in her life felt as lonely as she did today. 

Shutting her eyes, trying not to think about anything again, Astrid pressed her hand futher into the warm earth. She grabbed a handful of soil, took it to her mouth, and chewed it slowly. Acid swelled in her throat. She grabbed more soil, and this time swallowed it faster. 

From then on, Astrid spent less time at home. She'd leave in the morning, return in the night, check on Auntie, sleep next to her, and then would leave in the morning again.


	3. the door

The rays of light from the window rested directly on Astrid's face, causing her to belligerently turn her body the other way, facing away from the sunlight. She shut her eyes, trying to fall back to sleep again, but she sighed, she couldn't anymore. She shook her head, her lips turning into a frown as her arms stretched and her back arched. She sat up and yawned before she flopped right back on to the bed, exhaling as she felt the comfort of her pillow. 

But the comfort didn't last. Astrid gasped and sat up when a mace shot through her door followed by Snotlout, a high-pitched shriek leaving his lips as he was being flung into the room, his body slamming against the door, knocking it down. Behind the door was Ruffnut, who was holding her stomach as she gasped for air, laughing. Tuffnut stood behind her, snickering away.

"Ugh! I'm gonna kill you-" Snotlout lifted his weight, groaning in pain as he stood up, his face red as he was ready to pounce at the twins, who were now playfully jumping on their feet with their fists curled up infront of them, bouncing back and forth, like a pair of kangaroos ready to fight. 

"What the _hell_ have you done to my door, you _muttonheads!_ " Astrid raged. The twins and Snotlout froze as their heads concurrently turned towards the girl. She picked up her axe, and began shuffling out of bed.

"The monster has awakened!" Tuffnut cried dramatically. "Run for your lives!" 

Like that, the three teenagers bolted out the room, screaming in desperation as Astrid was chasing them. Tuffnut and Ruffnut had hopped on Barf and Belch as Snotlout jumped on, grabbing a hold of the dragon's leg, holding on for his dear life. Astrid began looking around for Stromfly, only to see that her dragon was still asleep. Astrid blinked. She wasn't going to wake her dragon up for _this._

Astrid then began shifting her eyes until it landed on a stone that was next to her feet. Thinking fast, she picked it up, and glanced up at Barf and Belch, who were panicking in the air because of Snotlout, who was dragging them down with their leg. She squinted her eyes, held the stone up, and threw it at Tuffnut's head, causing him to wince in pain. The stone then bounced off his head and landed on Ruffnut's head, and then it fell, dropping right on Snotlout. 

Apparently, the weight of that tiny stone was enough to cause Snotlout to let go of the Zippleback's legs. Astrid and the twins watched in silence as he began falling, his high-pitched shriek echoing around the edge. Just then, Hookfang appeared right under him, catching him before he hit the ground. 

One would think Snotlout must've given up by now, but no, he was determined to get the twins back. Astrid watched as Snotlout flew after the two of them, yelling curses and insults, only to receive laughter from their end.

Sighing, Astrid turned back at stared at her broken door. She pursed her lips into a thin line. She then heard a giggle coming from below, so she peeked down, to find Fishlegs petting Meatlug, and having her lick him back in return. 

"Hey! Fishlegs!" Astrid called out as she looked down, but he didn't hear hear. 

"Fishlegs!" 

Fishlegs gasped and looked up in suprise. 

"Yes?" He yelled back, as he looked up, pressing the side of his hand against his forehead to block his eyes from the sun. 

"Do we have na-" Astrid cleared her throat, and decided to speak louder, "Do you we have nails?" 

"What?" 

"I said do we have nai-" 

"No. We used up all of them last week!" 

"Oh." 

There was silence as Fishlegs stared at Astrid, who now bit her lip and began thinking of how she would fix her door. She could always have Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout do it - after all, they were the ones who broke it down, but then again, who knows if they would do it right, she may end up with no door at all. 

"Do you think you cou-" 

"Spitelout brought some things from Berk!" 

"He's here?" 

"He's at the arena. He may have brought some!" 

"Oh! Then why didn't you just say so?"

Astrid decided it was best to let Stormfly be and run to the arena herself. Hiccup was there, rummaging through the boxes of books, clothes, and lucky for Astrid - different sorts of tools. Like Fishlegs had said, Spitelout was also there, going through a pile of weapons, studying each sword by running his finger across the edges. The man looked up and spotted a figure running towards him, he frowned, and then decided that it was indeed that Astrid Hofferson and began on the little routine the two of them had going. 

"Hello, lass." 

"Spitelout." 

"And how is your father?" 

Astrid shrugged on cue, "You see him more than I do. How is Berk?" 

"Perfectly fine, thank you. Have you see my good-for-nothing son recently?" 

"Recently, yes." 

"Can you tell my good-for-nothing son he's a good-for-nothing when you find him?" 

"I'll try my best." 

"God bless you."

"Gesundheit."

Astrid walked past Spitelout, stopping in front of Hiccup. She stared at the boy before getting on one knee next to him, and also began looking through the boxes. Her mind went back to the little interaction she had with Spitelout - they did it everytime they met. Astrid never _really_ asked about her parents or how they were doing, but it's not like they ever asked about her too. She never received any terror mails from them, and whenever Stoick, Spitelout, or Gobber would come over to the edge, they would never say anything about her folks asking about her. 

She stopped scavenging through the objects and looked up at Spitelout. She took in a deep breath and decided to ask him. 

"Spitelout." 

"Lass." 

"How is....uhm," Astrid gulped, "How are my parents?" 

"Oh you know, same old story. Yak races and what not. They're everywhere now. I don't go a day without seein' em. Always running around here and there, always showing us how much they..." Spitelout paused for a second, and then laughed awkwardly. "Always showing us how much they _love_ eachother."

"Good." Astrid's voice trailed off. " _Gooood._ " 

"And how is Auntie?" She pursed her lips after letting the words fall out her mouth. 

"Thor! What can I say about that poor girl?" Spitelout tsked. "Never says a word. Just stares out at the window. I don't blame her. It's got a pretty good veiw, if I say so myself."

Neither of them said anything after that. The only sounds were that of Hiccup, who was making satisfied noises when he saw something in the box that he liked. Spitelout was staring at Astrid.

"You should come visit her sometime." 

"Who?" 

"Your aunt. It might cheer her up a bit." 

"I will." Astrid chuckled nervously. She lied. There was no way in hell she would go back. She often made excuses to avoid going to Berk unless it was an emergency.

About a year ago, there was a hit and run attack on Berk by one of Dagur's ships, and Astrid's home was one of the buildings that was hit. When Stoick had told her, she had rushed to her house, and felt her world break up infront of her when she saw that her home was burned to the ground. Her home. _Erik's home._ Her heart sank when she realised that she could not protect it. She remembers standing infront of the heap of burned wood and ashes, and silently praying to herself that Auntie was not in there, and auspiciously, no one was home that day. Gobber had walked up to her and told her that her parents were at the yak races, and for a spilt second, Astrid felt guilty that her parents were not the first people to have crossed her mind, and rather it was the woman that her mother taught her to resent her whole life. Apparently, a few months before that incident, both Mother and Father had decided to drop Auntie at Gothi's house for a while, but they forgot about her that night and never really picked her up, thus leaving Gothi to take care of the sunken woman. 

She did meet her parents that day, and didn't say or complain about their behaviour, she hugged them and told them that she missed them and was worried about them, only for them to hum in response and face their backs towards her, and walk towards Gobber to question him about their house. It wasn't like they had disowned her or anything, they were just too invested and _crazily in love_ with eachother to pay attention to their daughter. It was never really like Father to act like this until after the death of Erik. Astrid was no expert in what goes on in the human mind, but she came up with a theory that the only way Father could cope with Erik gone is by _ignoring_ the fact that Erik was gone. Astrid decided that by spending all his minutes with Mother, and constantly showing his affection to her was the only way he could distract himself from loosing it and was the only way Father could really be happy.

And that evening, Astrid had visted Auntie Ysir. She just sat infront of the older woman, hoping that somehow, magically, she would speak. Auntie still sat motionless on a couch, the only movement was that of her chest, slowly rising and falling, and the soft blinking of her eyes. Astrid had noticed that she looked cleaner than before - her hair was well combed, and her clothers were neat. Gothi must have been taking good care of her. Her couch was placed next to a window that had a view of the sunset. Some of Erik's clothes were also in the room, folded and set in the corner. In that one hour, Astrid walked around Auntie, braided her hair, told her about the edge, and how she would take her morning flights alone now, and took a fifteen minute nap on Auntie's lap - all while knowing that Auntie would not respond.

These were times when Astrid was reminded of her own insignificance, by her own mind. 

The understanding that her parents and Auntie had seemed to cross her name out in a list of things to love and prioritise had settled itself in her head, and danced around it for the past three years, ever since she came to the edge. 

Desolate thoughts roamed around her consiousness, asking her to give herself a point, asking her who would mourn for her if she were to no longer be around, and telling her that there was no one even waiting back home for her. She often reminded herself that going back to Berk was pointless, because no one was there to welcome her. She had no one who would hug her and be excited by her return, and there was no one who she could tell about her adventures back at the edge. No one bothered about her back there. She had no _home_ in Berk. 

It's not like any of her thoughts were wrong.

Because really, who was waiting for her back at Berk?

Who was waiting for her anywhere?

She tried to ignore the feeling, but deep inside, it hurt her that her parents never bothered checking up on her.

Astrid usually tried to convince herself that if Auntie Ysir were to get better, she would definitely send her terror mails, but then realised that Auntie couldn't read or write, and would most likely struggle to put her thoughts and prayers on paper.

It had been one year since that day. One year since she met her parents. One year since she met Auntie. One year since she saw her broken home.

"Your folks would also appreciate you visting." Spitelout said suddenly, causing Astrid to look up at him. He then gave her a sympathetic smile. "Although they won't appreciate it as much as Ysir." 

Astrid couldn't tell if Spitelout knew or not. She couldn't tell if he knew about Auntie being her mother. Honestly though, sometimes, she felt like everyone knew but said nothing about it to her. 

There were times when Spitelout looked at her with pure hatred, and there were times when he looked at her and Astrid could swear that there would be a hint of pity in his eyes. It made her sick - just the thought of someone pitying her. 

"Aha!" Astrid held a tin full of nails up in air, triumphantly as she smiled, then she jumped on her feet and began to exit the arena, ready to fix her door. 

❁❁❁

Astrid couldn't fix her door. 

"We're suppose to be a team, Astrid." Hiccup emphasized, his fist curled, and his eyes fixed on the ground. 

"I know. I-I should've told you. I wanted to. I really did." She did. She actually did. She had a conversation with Heather earlier and she insisted that they tell Hiccup. Because well, he was really good at this kind of stuff. Heather told her that he cared too much and would most likely try and pull her out of it, and so, Astrid agreed despite the guilt that built up inside of her for lying to him.

"But you didn't." 

"I'm sorry." Astrid looked down, and then back up. "But without Heather, the Dragon Hunters would have a key to the Dragon eye right now, and those Snowwraiths would not be safely hidden on another island right now."

Hiccup stepped towards her, "Still doesn't explain why you wouldn't let me take her and Ryker down. We could've captured the head of the Dragon Hunters." 

"Hiccup, Ryker isn't the head of the Dragon Hunters." Astrid said. Hiccup raised a brow. Ruffnut squinted her eyes. Snotlout and Fishlegs exchanged glances.

"According to Heather, their real leader is somebody named Viggo Grimborn." Astrid said.

"Awesome name." Ruffnut said suddenly. "Scary, but awesome." She added.

"I don't know." Tuffnut added, "Viggo Grimdeath would be cooler. Or how about Gore Grimskull!"

"Grimskull!" Tuffnut said dramatically, raising his hand as though he was clutching something as he lifted himself and stood on his toes.

"He lives in the shadows. Everyone's afraid of him, even Ryker. Heather hasn't met him yet, but she's our best shot at drawing him out."

There was silence in the clubhouse.

Well, I hope she knows what she's doing. For all our sake." Hiccup sighed, and then turned his back to Astrid, leaning against the wall with his index finger curled and rested on his chin.

The gang had dispersed. Snotlout, Fishlegs, and the Twins had left to their huts, leaving Astrid and Hiccup alone in the clubhouse. Astrid stared at the boy. He still hadn't turned towards her. 

She sighed and ran her fingers through her bangs, and then she bit her lip and settled herself up on the table. Although Hiccup didn't say anything, she couldn't help but feel like her presence there was simply annoying him. So she then stood up and walked behind him, she leaned a little closer to him. 

"I'm going to my hut." Astrid said quietly. She stepped forward only to have him shift away from her. She felt a ripple of hurt by his action, but chose not to show or say anything about it. 

"And I need to fix my door..." She added, unsure of what to say next. She just wanted to make sure he was not angry at her before she went to bed. She cleared her throat. 

"I really wanted to tell you." Astrid said, "I really did. I hope you know."

Hiccup just nodded.

"I just want to clarify that I would've told you if it were up to me." 

Hiccup let out a tired sigh, rubbed his eyes, and nodded again.

"Okay..." Astrid murmered, unsatisfied with his lack of answers, she suddenly felt tired. She began to walk out of the clubhouse before Hiccup pull her back by her arm. 

She cringed at his touch. 

And he noticed. 

"I'm sorry." He said immediately when he saw her reaction. He immediately retracted his hand and Astrid began rubbing the spot in her arm lightly.

"I forgot." He said and then he sighed, meeting her eyes. He then tilted his head. Astrid didn't like to be touched unless she was the one making the first move. 

"I'm sorry." He said again, and then smiled warmly. "And I'm not mad at you. I just-" He sighed. "One thing on top of the other. I trust you, Astrid, alot. I just wish you would've told me. It would've made things easier." 

Astrid nodded along, carefully listening to his words as the guilt ate her. Suddenly, he pressed himself against her, wrapping his arms around her back and resting his chin on her shoulder. 

Astrid sighed and hugged him back despite the sick feeling she got when he wrapped himself around her unexpectedly. She gritted her teeth, and when they pulled away, she forced herself to smile. Hiccup didn't seem to notice her discomfort.

Perhaps he forgot again. 

❁❁❁

That night, Astrid couldn't sleep for a long time. She decided that she would fix her door, only to end up procrastinating on the job. All the tools were rested on the floor of her hut, alongside her. She laid there in the middle of where her door was supposed to be. Her head was outside while the other half of her body was laying inside. The soft cold breeze of the night danced across her face. 

She could see the moon. 

And the moon could see her. 

And they spoke to one another. 

She raised her hand up and began waving it as she rested her head against Stormfly, who had now sat behind her with her eyes shut. 

Astrid waved one hand around and let her other hand run it's fingers against her axe. She wasn't sure why she kept Auntie Ysir's axe till this day. If anything, she was sure, looking at this axe took her mind back to Berk. Back to her _home_. Which is where she tried to run away from as much as she could. But still, the axe had now become who she was. After countless battles and adventures, she had grown close to it and refused to let go of it. It now held other and much better memories over the years.

The axe was quite old, and was a little dull but it worked well, and had now become a part of her. She didn't let anyone near it unless she knew they would be careful with it. She'd often give it to Hiccup or Fishlegs, and sometimes Heather, because they were gentle with it. 

The light of the moon had allowed her to see the shadow of her hand against the wall, swaying sideways. 

She stared at her shadow. 

Shadows.

 _He lives in the shadows._

Astrid suddenly thought of Viggo. What was up with the man? Why was he hidden? She thought about what he must look like. She imagined if he was bald like Ryker. The image made her laugh as she imagined how they'd look like if they stood next to eachother. But what if he had long hair, and was the complete opposite of his younger brother. Astrid shook her head. 

"Viggo." She said, as she stared at the moon. 

" _Viggooo,_ " She sang out as she repeated the man's name. What a strange name, she thought. She lifted her axe and began swinging it around. 

Astrid wondered what it was was about Viggo that made people fear him. He couldn't have been that scary or intimidating if someone like Ryker was his brother, right? 

Whoever he was, Astrid was sure he probably wouldn't be that big of a threat. 

And so, like that, Astrid fell asleep, the last thing she saw before she dozed off was the deep blue sky and it's welcoming sight. With the stars smiling at her, the light of the moon hugging her, and the soft wind humming to her.


End file.
